This Time
by peachwrites
Summary: A collection of requested aruani one-shot fics.
1. Baby Steps

"Annie? A-Annie?" Armin's voice stretched out to his partner at the other side of the table.

"What?" she replied after his fourth call, her steel blue eyes drifting from her coffee cup to Armin's confused expression.

Her response was monotonous and void of emotion, as it always was. Frankly, Armin had gotten used to her cold demeanor. But spending more time with Annie made him realize that she wasn't the antisocial loner everyone pegged her as. She just wasn't a talker. Over the course of their last few meetings, however, Armin liked to think that she had begun to open up a little more. For one thing, she'd stopped calling him by his last name, and she didn't seem to entirely hate being around him anymore. There was also that one time she almost smiled at a joke he had made about their professor, and how his spit trajectory seemed to align itself constantly at his desk. They were good.

Ever since the last time they met up, though, he's noticed that she's been really distant. Again. Her words were biting and she always looked at him like she would rather be elsewhere. The thought tugged at his chest a little bit as he refocused his attentions to her question.

"I-It's just-it's just that you seem to be really irritable lately." He thought maybe it was "that time of the month." He remembered a year ago, when Eren popped the question up to Mikasa one day, landing him with a broken nose, and it reminded Armin that it wasn't his place to ask. So he chose his words carefully. "Is this a bad time? We can always meet up tomorrow."

"We're already here Arlert," Annie bit back, her eyes scrunching up in an irritated scowl. "No point wasting our energy."

Armin's face flushed a light pink and he could feel her glare burning through his fringe. He didn't dare look up at her; she seemed furious but he didn't know why. Maybe it was something about the way he organized the presentation? Or how he took too much of a lead in the research process?

Annie wasn't petty to be mad about those kinds of things though. And if she was mad, he knew that her frank personality wouldn't tolerate anything she wasn't okay with.

"Sorry."

Armin looked up and saw that she wasn't glaring at him anymore. Her apology was a whisper on her lips, her eyes almost looked tired and she seemed to strain as she stared at her coffee cup like earlier.

"You don't have to apologize, it's been a long week." He gave her a warm smile as she took a glance at him, a light blush accenting her sharp features.

"So…uh…part B of the chapter?" Annie tapped at her notepad with a pencil, her chin resting on her right palm.

"At the end probably. Because we still have to talk about how we came to our conclusion before introducing the new idea." Armin shifted in his seat to get a better view of his notes before sliding his notebook across the table, accidentally brushing her forearm. He pulled away instantly, scratching the back of his head while averting his gaze elsewhere.

'_Damn it, Armin, pull yourself together!_' Armin scolded himself mentally and took a deep breath.

Thankfully Annie didn't notice how absolutely red his ears had gotten, her focus on his carefully organized notes. And then, for the umpteenth time that month, with Annie engrossed in his notebook, Armin thought to himself how beautiful she looked when she read. In retrospect, he thought she was beautiful no matter what she did but whenever her face softened like that, a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips, her fingers holding back her hair flush against her cheek, Armin Arlert was mush. He wanted to revel in her, to just take in everything about her.

"You're making me uncomfortable, Arlert." He felt her eyes on him for a split second before she was back to reading.

"Sorry."

"I think this is good." Annie slid his notebook back towards him.

"Thanks. I mean we could always skip on the points that are a bit redundant. I'm sure the class can look up the other terms on their own."

"Okay."

"Do you think we should have an open forum after? To change it up a bit?" Armin waited for her response and jotted down some ideas.

"Maybe…If we still ha-"

"What was that?" Armin looked up from his note making and found Annie had dropped her head onto the table, the arm that held her chin earlier haphazardly strewn over her head. He was reluctant at first, but when she didn't respond after he called her name a few times, he began to worry.

"Okay, Annie, this isn't funny." When his partner made no effort of moving, Armin jolted from his side of the table, walking around and kneeling beside her. She was breathing but she wasn't moving. She looked unconscious.

Armin started to panic. His heartbeat echoing in his ears, he looked around for someone, _anyone_, but it was pretty late into the evening so students were sparse, and the front desk held a note that said "Will be back in 20."

'_Okay, Armin, calm down. Remember first aid class? What do you do first?_' Flashbacks of lifeguard training came in like a flood as he rushed to Annie's side.

Just as he reached out to her body, however, Annie's hand twitched. She groaned as she struggled to push herself off of the table and winced, her head lifted from its surface.

"Annie stop!" Armin held out his hands to keep her from doing anything rash but she was already balancing her head on folded arms.

"Loud," Annie hissed and buried her face further into the folds of her arms.

He had had enough. With a determined look on his face, Armin pulled her gently out of her position to lean her against the chair, her head lolling to the side. He could feel heat through her sweater. '_That is definitely not normal_.' He pushed aside any mental screaming about personal space and covered her forehead with his palm. He immediately pulled back, her body's temperature insanely hot. She had a fever.

"Oh my god, Annie. You're really hot!"

"H-hitting on m-e…in t-this state, Arlert?" Annie said between labored breaths.

"This is the worst time to suddenly have a sense of humor! We need to get you to the clinic." Armin was about to hook his arms under her knees but Annie's hand weakly pushed him away.

"I can walk, Arlert." Before he could protest, however, she was already up on her feet. And just as quickly as she had gotten up, her body went limp, falling into Armin's open arms. The latter caught her waist as he steadied her back onto her feet. It was incredibly difficult to fight away the rush of blood to his face from all the contact they were making, but he really needed to focus on getting her help.

They made their way through the aisles of books, Annie's arm hanging over Armin's shoulder and his hand supporting her at the waist, out into the cool autumn air. Armin pulled them in the direction of the clinic but Annie stopped him.

"What's wrong? The clinic is that way!" Armin's voice was urgent.

"Went this morning," Annie groaned out, her body sliding against his side. "Said rest."

Armin wasn't convinced, so he continued in the direction of the clinic. But Annie's persistence proved his efforts futile.

"I-will cut you Arlert. I n-need…a bed."

Armin didn't want to waste any more time out in the cold arguing with a half conscious student in tow, but they were making no progress staggering on the way they were. So ignoring all her protests, Armin curled his arm under her knees and caught her body in his arms, her head resting snug against his chest. She had fallen asleep.

In any other situation, this would be incredibly romantic. Armin had fantasized many times before about holding her. However, he had hoped that when he finally got to carry her bridal style, there would be consent and intentional snuggling. He adjusted her body to get into a better posture to walk and decided that her dorm really was closer than the clinic, and opted that it would be best to get her out of the cold as soon as possible.

Annie's co-ed dorm sat a building away from the library. She stayed in a room with one other girl, who he'd met on two occasions when he dropped by for their meetings. He walked in through the automatic slide doors and turned left at the hallway. If he recalled correctly, she was the fourth room to the right. There was a light glowing from beneath the door and when he knocked, her roommate Christa opened the door, unprepared to find a sleeping Annie in the arms of her study partner.

"Armin?" Christa moved out of his way and proceeded to open the door leading to Annie's room.

"Sh-She fainted. In the library," Armin replied between breaths, walking through the door. He waited as Christa shifted to move a pile books from the bed and laid Annie's sleeping form in as comfortable a position as he could get her.

"I knew something was off with her this morning," the short girl said pointedly. "She shrugged me off though, and I didn't want to push it. She's been under a lot of stress recently."

"Stress?"

"Yeah, she doesn't say much but she's been pulling a lot of all-nighters recently. Sometimes till 4 in the morning."

Armin curled away a strand of hair that fell across her cheek and faced Christa. He asked for a bowl from the kitchen and started rummaging for a towel. When it became painfully obvious that he would have to start looking through drawers, he stopped and waited for Christa to return. The latter came back fully prepared, a towel draped over her shoulder and a large stainless steel bowl filled with ice water.

"Thanks." Armin smiled, taking the bowl from Christa. He took off his sweater and went to work on the towel, sinking it into the ice-cold water and wringing it out gently, making sure not to splash it about. His calm and unfazed demeanor confused Christa, whose heart was still beating rampant with worry. Without a second thought, Armin folded the fabric neatly and placed it on Annie's forehead, watching the way her face scrunched under the cool sensation.

'_It shouldn't have happened in the first place_,' he said to himself. All the signs were there, if he had only paid closer attention, he might have noticed. The way her cheeks were uncharacteristically pinker than usual, her eyes were droopier, and her hair lacking its usual luster. Looking at her now, he noticed how her already pale skin seemed almost transparent in the dim lighting of her bedroom. Armin's heart sank to the pits of his gut as he fought back the urge to blame himself completely.

"Thanks for bringing her back, Armin." Christa's gentle voice rang through his ears and he snapped out of his daze.

"Oh. No problem. She fought me over taking her to the clinic."

"Same."

"Uh. I guess…I should probably leave." Armin turned to show himself out.

"You don't have to." He stopped dead in his tracks. He had wanted to stay. But he didn't want to cross any boundaries or impose any further, so he simply shook his head and stuttered out a lame excuse about Eren being worried.

"I think she'd appreciate waking up to see you." The short blonde smiled knowingly and left it at that. She bid Armin a good night, turned off the main lights, and trudged down the hallway into her room.

Left in the dark living area, Armin debated and calculated, measured the probabilities and the consequences, weighing out his options. He wanted so badly to stay, to make sure that Annie would get the care she needed. He knew that Christa was more than capable but she had already left expecting him to accept her offer.

'_Why are you even over-analyzing this Armin?_' He knew what he wanted to do. He also knew what he should probably be doing instead.

Armin stood outside Annie's bedroom door. It was 2 a.m. and he had just returned from collecting their belongings from the library. He had rushed a quick text message to Eren to ensure his roommate that he was indeed safe and wasn't 'recruited into the Kirschtein army.' Anxious and extremely worried, his body began to shake, his foot tapping noiselessly against the carpeted flooring. Annie's bag and books in one arm and her scarf over his shoulder. He opted to leave his things on the couch by the TV and wondered if he should knock first or expect her to still be asleep and simply enter. He ran his palm over his face, common sense dictating that he knock and then enter to announce his intentions.

He did so.

"Oh, you're up." He stopped mid-step through the door, spotting a very stiff looking Annie in a sitting position, her sheets over her legs and her hair scrunchie lost in the folds of her blankets. She looked disoriented, to say the least, and almost harmless. When her eyes landed on his, her posture softened slightly and he wondered whether she had been looking for him or was just expecting someone else. He hoped it was the former and pushed all thoughts associated aside.

"How did w e–I get here?" Annie's voice was hoarse, almost a murmur. If the room hadn't been absolutely silent, he wouldn't have understood her.

"I carried you," he hesitated, his hand still on the door. When Annie made no effort to retort to his presence in her room, he took it as a sign that he could enter. "You fought me though."

He grabbed the chair by her work desk and dragged it by her bedside. Sitting up close enough to take the towel that had been cast aside, probably from her waking up, he set it back in the bowl of ice water.

"You didn't have to…." Again her voice was gentle, quite unlike her. It unsettled Armin; not because it had lost the usual drop of sarcasm, but because it sounded nothing like the Annie he's gotten to know.

"I wasn't going to leave you there on your own."

"You could have called Christa."

"And let _her_ carry you?"

"Point taken."

She gave up easily too.

"You shouldn't have let yourself go like that. I mean, if you were tired, we can always reschedule."

There was a pause and Armin looked up from wringing the towel of cold water to watch her face. She was looking very intently at her folded hands on her lap. She looked deep in thought, her eyes fighting to stay focused.

"Like right now you should be lying down." He reached for her but stopped himself when she flinched away ever so slightly. He hated to admit it, but that small reaction turned his stomach inside out and caused his shoulders to sag. "Here." Armin handed her the folded towel and watched her take it from him with cautious hands. She flipped it over her palm once. Twice. Again. And Again. Her movements seemed intentional but he felt a sixth sense telling him that she felt uncomfortable.

"Should I leave?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Mm," she voiced. It wasn't an answer. At least it didn't sound like one. She didn't nod or shake her head either and her body language was extremely misleading.

With a heavy weight somewhere in his torso—he couldn't quite pin it down—he made a move to stand. The sudden warm sensation on his right leg however, sent him reeling back into his seat.

'_Annie's hand is on my leg._

_Annie's hand is on my leg._

_Her hand is on my leg.'_

Armin didn't know what to do. This was the first time in his life he had ever encountered a feeling grow so sharply in his chest and rush so loudly through his veins. His face reddened, his heartbeat escalating to match that dub-step mix Eren forced him to listen to earlier, it would be horrific if she could hear it's awkward rhythm. He consciously covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he turned his body to face her.

"Annie?" He didn't mean for his voice to come out as a squeak but it did and oh, how he prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

Annie retrieved her hand slowly, her eyes darting from his leg, to her fingers, to the end of the bed, the door, the sheets, anywhere but him. "I didn't say anything."

'_Exactly!'_ Armin wanted to scream. He dropped his hand to steady his shaking leg, balancing his weight on the chair. Sitting suddenly felt so unnatural to him. Like he had never done it before. They both fell silent.

His eyes were then drawn to her hands then. She held the towel, her grip tightening before handing it back to him, eyes still drawn to a specific spot on the sheets.

Armin took it from her; the warmth from her hands had stolen the cold from the fabric, his fingers unintentionally brushing against her wrist just as he did. He wondered what it would feel like to actually hold her hands. It didn't have to be romantically, he just wanted to know what they felt like against his. If they were as smooth as they were graceful every time she wrote her name on the top of her worksheets, or if they would be rough and calloused from hard work and training.

"Armin?" Her voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry." His voice caught in his throat.

He went through the process of submerging the towel into the water and wringing it out one last time before folding it back again and offering it to her. Instead of taking it, however, Annie pushed her feet deeper into the sheets, burying her body in the blanket and curling up into a ball on her side. She looked up at him then, her eyes glancing quickly at the towel in his hand. Armin blushed.

This was not how he envisioned his evening to have gone. The longer the night went on, the more Armin was convinced that being sick probably contributed to her uncharacteristic gentleness. No, it _definitely_ contributed to her uncharacteristic gentleness. Even when she had flinched at his touch, or when he told her about carrying her unconscious body from the library. Particularly so when she all but asked him not to leave. All the more when she—

"It goes on my head." Annie's voice was muffled with the blanket over her lips.

He didn't register what she said, however, his thoughts still reveling in the fact that Annie had used his first name to address him. Oh, how stupid he felt for not having realized it sooner and relishing in how she had said it. He can't remember if it was irritation or impatience that had shadowed her voice when she called out to him. But he remembers thinking about her hands. And then what?

"Armin?"

There.

"Armin?"

That's it. That's how it sounded like.

"Armin?"

Just a breath. Two syllables that he had grown so accustomed to hearing from friends and his grandfather. But hearing it escape the lips of Annie Leonhardt was different. It felt like jumping off of a cliff and watching the stars at the same time. It was a rush and an embrace all in one and he wanted to bask in it, in her voice calling out his name.

"Armin!" For what felt like the hundredth time that evening, Armin was pulled out of his daydream. He was zoning out so much more than he usually did and Armin rarely ever zoned out.

Before he could even fully regain his bearings, two extremely warm hands clasped around his wrists pulling him in. Annie held on, weak and indescribably exhausted. Armin could tell she was using every last bit of energy she had left into this pull so he simply gave in. He found himself hovering over her lying form then, his right knee pressed into the side of the bed, and his left leg supporting him from the ground. His hands made contact with her temples as Annie lead him to place the damp cloth onto her forehead. He let go as soon as it touched skin and she retracted her fingers from the feeble hold she had on his wrists.

"Wasn't so hard was it?" Annie mumbled and turned to her side, away from Armin, the towel clinging to her forehead for dear life.

"I—." Armin didn't know what to say. His hands fell limp at his sides while his body remained frozen in position.

"Next time just get me an ice pack from the freezer. Warms up slower," she said finally before snuggling into her pillow, her breathing steadying with a gentle rise and fall of her shoulders.

Processing everything was taking a toll on Armin and he didn't know if he could really take any more of that night. He was about to take his leave, turning off the lights before placing a hand on the doorknob.

"Don't make me say it again, Armin."

His head tilted to look at her again, the hallway casting a bright light on the bump under the covers. Armin didn't want to assume anything. And he most definitely didn't want to do anything that called for invading her personal space. But if that wasn't an invitation for him to stay, he didn't know what it was.

"Just…come here, Arlert," she said with as much venom as she could muster when he made no move to do act on any thinking.

Then his body was moving. On it's own. It was an out of body experience really. He was watching himself from a different plane of reality as real-life Armin shut the door, felt his way through the dark, and stopped abruptly at her bedside. He hesitated a second before leading himself to lie down properly, on top of the covers. She stirred a little and curled in on herself further. She didn't say anything and he wasn't going to either. He had to admit however, that the situation was really…nice. Her very presence next to him was calming, and, for a while, he felt he could sleep peacefully for an eternity. He turned on his side and dared to inch closer so that their backs were against each other. Annie stiffened but it didn't last long before she slowly relaxed into their lying positions.

"Just this once, Arlert."

Armin was soaring. It didn't matter to him what she called him anymore. He smiled and shut his eyelids, cuddling into the pillow beneath his head. Her bedridden condition aside, he really didn't want the sun to rise, and he would later find out, but at the moment, neither did Annie.


	2. Right Here -

Request fill for Depressed!Aruani — Warnings apply

Annie knew this was coming. Past experiences have taught her that relationships just weren't for her. Having to commit to someone took too much effort and she never enjoyed anything that she couldn't master in a few weeks. But this time was different. She was never the person who believed in soul mates or the cheesy 'happily ever after' but with Armin, she thought that it could have been possible. Maybe.

It's not like they were perfect for each other, they had different temperaments, he was nice, and she was indifferent most of the time. But in spite of their characteristic asymmetry, she found that they were good together. Armin brought out feelings and sides to her personality that she never knew she had. She was content and she liked being with him. So when her boyfriend of four months texted her that morning a 'can we talk?' she felt something she hadn't felt in a long while, she felt anxious.

They agreed to meet at the bench in the park by her dorm building. It wasn't too far away but she had to venture towards the inner areas to get there. She took her time, the autumn wind wrapping her in a biting breeze. The news said it would be sunny but she learned that the weather forecast wasn't always dependable. A shiver shook through her entire body as she pulled the hood of her sweater over her head and stuffed her hands further into its pockets. The fallen leaves crunching beneath the soles of her shoes gave her something else to focus on.

She neared their meeting place at the back of the park. The bench sat in a corner, surrounded by a group of trees, distanced from the general area where people usually gathered. It was where they studied in the spring when it was too noisy in the campus library. Also where she found herself strangely drawn in to the way he laughed and how his eyebrows knotted in concentration. It would soon be the place she got dumped for the first time.

She stopped in front of the bench, taking in its tattered edges, the marks on the table etched by lovers and vandal children. She grazed her fingers across one mark she had made. It was when they were studying for finals in first year and she was bored out of her mind with the subject matter of their course. It wasn't meaningful or anything, but she remembered it being the first time Armin looked at her different.

Annie sighed and took a seat, her back against the table as she laid her head on the surface and took in the October sky. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and focused on the wind and the rustling of the leaves, dreading every minute that passed, wishing that time would slow down.

It was fifteen minutes later when the familiar trudging of rubber against grass caused her to stir. Armin always wore the same shoes when they made last minute plans. He argued that they were comfortable in any environment and were easy to put on in case he was in a hurry. There was a foreign thumping in her ears when she heard him approach. It was only when she lifted her head to watch him walk up to her that she realized it was her heart thrumming to an unfamiliar beat against her chest.

Armin's head hung low as he stumbled along, his eyes trained on his feet. When he finally looked up at her, he smiled, feeling an unseen burden lift off his shoulders. He had tossed and turned the conversation over and over in his mind so many times that day. Once in the shower, three times in his morning class, once more just before he texted her, and a last time when he told Eren and Mikasa of his intentions. There was nothing easy about what he was about to do. If he was being honest to himself, he wanted more than anything not to have the conversation. But the warning Mikasa gave him that afternoon rang in his mind. If he did not do this now, it would only get harder for the two of them in the long run.

He shook his head from overthinking and came to a stop in front of her.

"Hey," he said quietly, his confidence betraying him.

Annie hummed in acknowledgement, meeting his gaze.

He went around the bench to sit opposite her, and Annie willed the pang in her heart away.

He made himself comfortable. Then folded his hands in front of him, interlacing his fingers and then unhooking them as he spoke, "I'm sorry for calling you out so late."

"It's okay." Annie's voice was quiet.

He didn't want to look up at her in fear of losing his what was left of his resolve. He opened his mouth to speak but something in the back of his head nagged him and he shut it with a snap. This went on for a bit, Armin battling with his inner voice and losing every time. He bit his lip after the fourth time and Annie could tell that she had to say something or they would be sitting there for a while.

"What…what did you want to talk about?" Her words stumbled at first and she failed to find her voice. She cursed mentally at how vulnerable she sounded just then.

But Armin made no move to speak. He swallowed hard and took deep breaths and blinked a number of times. Annie didn't know what to make of it. She thought maybe he was formulating the best way to break it to her. Knowing Armin, he would probably let her down gently and then blame himself in the process. As much as she didn't want to think about it, it was the only thing that crowded her thoughts. Were they really that different? Admittedly, she did have a short temper and she rolled her eyes a bit too often, but if he had something to say, he could tell her and she wouldn't think less of him. Even if he was going to break up with her. Or so she convinced herself.

When he took another deep breath without saying anything, she grew impatient.

"You know if you wante–"

"I have–"

They spoke at the same time, their words jumbling together undecipherable. And Annie wished she had held her tongue back a second longer. Armin squirmed in his seat, feeling her eyes burning through to him.

"Sorry," she said sinking back into her seat.

"No, don't be." He shook his head.

He looked around him for a distraction, for anything to keep him from the pestering of his inner monologue. A dark feeling enveloped him then.

She'll probably think you're gross

Or a waste of time

Useless even

The voices in his head increased in volume, shutting out everything around him. He tightened his grip on the bench, his toes clenching and unclenching in his frustration. But nothing showed in his face. If there was one thing he had mastered, it was hiding.

Annie is different though

Maybe she won't leave

Determination tuned out everything else and he decided that that was what he would focus on. Annie watched his tongue dart out to graze over his lips as he spoke, "I want to tell you something," he started, his eyebrows arched in a nervous expression.

Annie straightened herself and leaned forward slightly as if to gesture him to go on.

Armin hesitated, his eyes ghosting over the top of her head as he collected his words, "I-I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore." His voice was quiet as if he were speaking to himself. Annie could have sworn it cracked at the end. "But I want you to know that I really do like you. I like being with you."

Annie was confused but she let him go on.

"I thought about having this conversation with you for a while." He pushed himself to keep going, "I think I thought about it a little too much actually." He laughed lamely and scratched the back of his neck. "At one point I thought about not telling you at all. But that would have been really selfish of me."

Annie could tell he was stalling and it took every ounce of her self-restraint not to snap at him for it. She didn't notice when her leg started jittering but the sensation calmed her nerves so she didn't stop.

He was about to continue when she cut him off, "Look Armin," she said. He looked up at her and noticed the serious look in her eyes, his heartbeat pounding. "If you're not happy with me, just tell me." Her voice was unintentionally bitter, "don't go around trying to sugarcoat it."

Armin panicked. His eyes widened as he looked to her, "A-Annie, that's not what I meant." He stayed there, his gaze not letting go. That was not what he meant at all. He searched her expression, trying so hard to explain everything without saying anything and it weighed down on his shoulders.

"Then what is it?" Annie straightened up.

"I–you make me so happy Annie." His voice strained but he was reaching for her with each syllable. Everything he wanted to say was in those words and he meant it. She made him so very happy. Every day he spent with her was another day he didn't curse at himself for being crazy. Being with her meant that he didn't have to listen to the voices in his head call him useless. Looking at her gave him something else to think about, made him forget the nights his head would purposefully collide with the wall behind his headboard. She made him happy and she made him forget.

Annie didn't know how to react.

Her make him happy?

She felt it resonate within her. Nobody's ever said that to her and she didn't know if there would ever be another confession that could make her feel that way again. She thought her heart stopped for a moment as blood rushed to her cheeks.

"I've never been happier than I am with you Annie," Armin repeated.

He was back to fiddling with his fingers when she braved to look at him. His features betrayed his last statement, a worried grimace on his face as he worked his fingers into each other. And for the first time, Annie saw the bags under his eyes, the dark circles that shadowed them. He looked tired and more than anything, he looked like he had been crying.

"I–" he started, the voices in his ears ringing louder than ever and Annie held her breath.

"I have depression." It was the clearest thing he had said all evening. He let out a slow breath through parted lips and felt the weighing down on his shoulders grow heavier with each second that passed in silence between them.

Annie didn't know how to respond. Every other assumption she had built up earlier came crashing down in one phrase.

A light breeze blew past them when Armin pulled his cardigan tighter against his body, "I-I've had it fo-for a few years now. I've b-een ta..king medi-medication."

She could feel his voice cracking, breaking. He had been keeping it from her fearing that she would leave him? Was this what he was scared of? That she wouldn't want to be with him anymore because he had a disorder? She didn't know what to think but she knew that more than anything she wanted to be next to him.

Annie pushed herself off of her side of the bench and noticed how he flinched when she did.

"It gets b-ad, really bad." Armin's voice squeaked as he fought back the tears that stung his eyes and she walked up to his side. Annie swung her legs over and sat next to him, a ghost of space between their arms and thighs. "I could do things and say things. I might even hurt you." There was an ache in his voice as he spoke, his words weighing down on him with a crushing force. It was so unlike him. So unlike the boy she had fallen in love with. It was vulnerable, desperate, uncertain, and hoarse when words fell from his lips.

"Armin," she called out quietly. He shook his head, a whine escaping his lips.

Her hand moved then. Slowly. Cautiously. And she placed it on top of his. They were clasped on the edges of his seat with such strength that his knuckles turned pale and she didn't know how much further her heart could drop. She ran her thumb over his wrist and across his pinky and stared at their hands for a while until he relaxed his grip. She paused for a moment and gently slipped her thumb just below his to lace their fingers together. She could feel his gaze on her as she leaned into his shoulder, resting her head there and tightening her hold on his hand.

They sat there for a while, nothing but the wind and silence enveloping their bodies. The low murmur of civilization yards away sounded alien to them.

Annie thought about what to say. She knew this wasn't something she could fix with her words. Nothing she phrased could ever take out what he was nursing on the inside. She could make promises; tell him that things will be okay, that he would get better. But they fell empty and flat no matter how she thought of wording it. So she settled on something else. Something she knew she could do and he could maybe hold on to.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Armin let out a choked sob and set his forehead against the side of her head. A stream of short breaths escaped his lips as she squeezed his hand tighter.

"Y-you don't…don't…sh-houldn't," he was stuttering, straining to breathe. Annie reached out for his face and rested a hand against his cheek.

"I could let you down," he gasped.

"You won't," she reassured, her eyes unwavering.

"Y-you might hate me,"

"Maybe." She repositioned herself to face him, their hands still locked together.

"But still…"

Armin had given up holding back, his tears streamed down his face. Annie trailed her thumb against his cheekbone, his jawline, traced the outline of his ears and tucked his hair behind it. There was a bruise just above his right temple and she took a deep breath, wondering if this was how he hurt himself. Her heart sank. She traced the mark with her fingers and he cringed at her touch, embarrassed and ashamed. Annie smoothed the wetness on his cheeks away and peered into his eyes. She saw the hurt there, the shame, and most of all the sadness that he hid behind his radiant smile, behind the books, and the extensive research.

"I don't want you fighting it on your own anymore," she said finally, "I'll be right here."

Armin leaned into her hand and cried the world off of his shoulders. He pressed his hand into hers, smiling. "Thank you," he whispered into her palm.

And for the first time in her life, Annie knew that this boy would be the world to her.


	3. If Time Permits

"We did it Annie," Armin whispered as he reached out to her, a ghost of a smile tracing his lips.

He didn't have much time. In the next twenty or so minutes, he would hear footsteps trekking victoriously through the hallway to take her away.

"Far away," they told him.

"Where she can't harm anyone," he recited to himself from memory.

"Hey Annie," his voice was quiet as he leaned in to rest his forehead inches from hers.

"I wonder…if we lived a different lifetime things would be different." Armin sighed, his eyes fluttered shut, "We could have even been friends."

There was a scraping of boots and a buzz of chatter from across the room when Armin pulled away. Quietly, he snuck around the large mass in the center of the room and timed his exit to when the group walked in. His footsteps went unheard through the heated discussions and clanging of equipment. When he had reached the surface, the afternoon sun enveloped his body in warmth. He caught his reflection in one of the windows that cascaded across the building that kept her and stared. The man that looked back at him was older. Seeing her reminded him of the fact. There were bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep and his skin boasted a light tan from their last expedition.

He pushed the frame of his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose when a soldier called out to him, "Commander Arlert!"

The man approached him and saluted. That was his cue to straighten up and refocus on the relief efforts underway. All other thoughts of a one sixteen-year-old girl trapped in an eternal sleep were locked away in the deepest chasms of his mind.

* * *

**NOTE**: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! I haven't written anything in a long time and this is my first attempt at getting back into writing. I'm so glad it's being so positively received (:

— Peach


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